


Iron and Salt, Nice Wines and Fine Things.

by agirlnamedtruth



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Explicit Language, F/M, Incest, Sexual Content, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-16
Updated: 2012-06-16
Packaged: 2017-11-07 21:50:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/435821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlnamedtruth/pseuds/agirlnamedtruth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yara savours revealing herself to Theon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Iron and Salt, Nice Wines and Fine Things.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Hurt/Comfort Bingo](http://hc-bingo.livejournal.com).

She knew as soon as she saw him that she wasn’t going to make the mistake of telling him who she was. He’d never be himself as long as he knew. He was already getting high and mighty just standing on the docks, declaring himself Theon Greyjoy, heir to Pyke Islands. She wanted to sidle up to him and say _No, darling brother, that’s me_ but she held her tongue and offered him a ride up to the castle, leaving more than a trail of hints that she was going there too.

He had more than enough time on the ride to ask her what her name was, who her family were but he didn’t care about that. He only cared about getting one hand into her blouse and the other into her pants. She could have stopped him, probably, with those three words ( _I’m your sister_ ) that longed to come out, just to see the look on his face. But she knew it was best saved, so she let him talk and make promises of the world while his fingers circled her clit and made her thankful for the stirrups that were keeping her seated. She kept the horse on a short rein, making it walk as slowly as it would, drawing out the journey until she’d reached her climax, not offering him a single touch in return.

She stabled the horse herself, giving Theon just enough time to walk in and declare himself a little Lord, just long enough for her father to humiliate him and bruise his ego, softening him ready for her own blow. She waited by the doors, listening for the perfect moment to reveal herself. When it came, it was nearly too good.

She walked in, letting him make his protests, barely sparing him a glance. She watched first as he realised who she was and then what he’d done. Finally, he grasped what was really being said and started making pointless claims all over again. They were ones she’d heard before, from every man that felt emasculated by her. They told her she was a woman like she hadn’t noticed her own cunt and then told her she couldn’t lead an army or command a ship while she proceeded to do both, while all they could do was whine about it.

She watched as her father raised her on a platform of compliments, each one knocking Theon a step lower, making it almost too easy to throw in a few verbal punches of her own. Then he was late with their motto, dragging himself even further down, making her smile despite herself.

Her father gave her the ships and his backing, and burnt Theon’s proposal like the rubbish that it was. He’d been too long on land; she could see it as he stood there, bewildered. All the salt had been drawn from his blood, replaced by nice wines and fine things. She reckoned if they were completely truthful with each other, she’d have killed more men and fucked more women than he had. She walked passed him, making sure he got a good look because now he knew who she was, she was damn well sure he was going to see she was more iron than he could pretend to be.


End file.
